


A Fall a Day Gets Me One Dr. Griffin

by handsinforests



Series: First Kisses [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, doctor!clarke, lawyer!Anya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsinforests/pseuds/handsinforests
Summary: Clarke and Anya hate each other. Absolutely. That's why they flirt, and Anya keeps coming back to the same hospital, requesting her when she falls on her face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be the third in the series but it ended up being finished sooner than I thought, so here it is!

“Your hot sister didn’t need a flu shot, Woods?” Dr. Griffin strolls into the patient’s room, finding Anya scowling as always. She’s wearing her favorite green and blue polka dotted scrubs and of course the gorgeous devil of a woman has to come and ruin her day. She’s just had a Snickers with her lunch too, though judging by the fidget of the other woman’s leg - and the gashes in her right eyebrow and lip - she doesn’t seem all that happy to be there either. 

 

“I’m not here for a flu shot, I fell on my face and I need stitches.” Anya growls out, the expression hurting her but she’d be damned if she didn’t frown all throughout this ridiculous encounter. Her gray and blue  _ Yale Law School _ t-shirt is stained darker in some places due to blood and she’s rubbing her palms so quickly over her blue jeans that Clarke’s afraid she’ll get a static shock once she touches her. The other blonde’s legs are kicking and fidgeting furiously in her black heels at this point, agitated by the fact that Clarke is literally getting prepped to fix her as slow as she possibly can, probably to hike up her bill. “What the fuck is taking you so long, Griffin?” She can feel the wound on her eyebrow widening slightly as she furrows her brows even deeper when Clarke answers her.

 

“It’s Dr. Griffin, and I’m simply making sure I have all the tools I need and they and I are properly sterilized before I go at the gashes in your face.” Is this professional at all? Absolutely not, but honestly, how likely is it that she’ll be fired from the new hospital, in desperate need of  _ more  _ doctors, that she practically built with her own hands. She almost charges across the room, the crinkling and tearing of the paper on the examination bed grating on her ears. “Get that look off your face.” Clarke swats at Anya until she relaxes her facial muscles, the wounds tightening as she gives her best glare without making this situation even worse than it is. “I’m only warning you because I have to by law but I know you’ve had so many damn stitches in your face that you know the drill. I’m putting some anesthetic and rubbing alcohol on so this won’t hurt like a bitch or worsen the wound when I stab you like I love doing so much.” 

 

Clarke proceeds to apply the alcohol and anesthetic before cooling herself down and beginning stitching the honey blonde in Kane-Griffin Hospital up. Okay, she’ll admit it, did she and Anya have a very weird hate flirtationship going on? Yes. Had it been going on for literally months with neither of them doing anything about it? Also yes, but was it really her place to act on it? Certainly not when their faces were this close together, Anya’s eyes intently avoid Clarke’s as she worked, her face exuding complete confidence in her ability to sew human faces back to how they should be. Her tongue was just barely peeking out from the left side of her thin, pouty lips just under that trademark mole, both being features that Anya had absolutely not fantasized about multiple times. 

 

“Doing okay there, soldier?” Dr. Griffin said suddenly, and had Anya not had the sense to keep herself from jumping in shock the needle surely would’ve gone somewhere it had no business being. “What’d you fall on anyway, your cat? Did anyone yell timber?” Anya would laugh at the jab against the various scratches on her face if she wasn’t the one who couldn’t feel all of it right now. 

 

“I didn’t fall on my cat, Tris was declawed by her previous owners. I fell on my kitchen countertop and busted my eyebrow and lip.” Their noses are almost touching and Clarke’s breath smells like Snickers and a freshly dissolved mint, her incredibly cute mole is right there - and she’s her doctor, that she hates. And has hated for the seven months that Lexa has known her. 

 

“Did you trip on your ego?” Clarke smirked despite the fact that she has a needle in the other woman’s face. “Or maybe your frown dropped too low again.” 

 

“Actually I was making dinner for your Mom.” Anya can’t tell what’s funnier: the fact that she legitimately was making dinner for the original Dr. Griffin, or the sick burn she’s just laid down on the younger blonde. Clarke frowns even deeper, finishing up the stitches in her eyebrow. 

  
“You won’t need anything for your lip. Just be careful, I obviously don’t wanna see you here anytime soon.” Clarke can’t help the slight smirk on her face as the even taller than usual woman stands back up, stretching and cracking her knuckles. 

  
“Thanks Doc. Not planning on it.” Anya strides out with pride, her hips swaying as she goes to the nurse’s counter to check out.  

 

*

 

She’s back the next week, this time with Lexa. “Okay  _ now _ I need a flu shot, Clarke.” Lexa attempts to lighten the tension between her sister and the doctor with little acknowledgement. Clarke is wearing her second favorite scrubs, - of course - the white ones with red hearts. She looks like a walking talking Valentine’s Day and she loves it. What she does  _ not  _ love, is Anya, back in her hospital, with more injuries. This time she’s at least wearing something Clarke doesn’t mind looking at, a white low cut blouse and black dress pants, completing the outfit with those same black heels. Her similarly black suit jacket is on the back of Lexa’s chair on the other side of the room.

 

“What did you get into this time, a lumberjack try to cut you down?” Clarke really can't help herself, the last name and Anya’s general personality lend themselves to so many jokes. 

 

“Anya slipped in court and landed on her arm, we just want to make sure nothing’s broken.” Lexa speaks, knowing that she'll have to be the mediator in this situation. The woman in question is gingerly holding her left arm in her lap, all the while scowling possibly even deeper than she had the last week. Lexa’s forest green eyes move over to her, concern and love shining within them. “Anya actually didn’t want to come here at all, but I convinced her that it was for her own good.”

 

“Well I have no clue as to why she wouldn’t want to get fast and effective medical care, but I’m glad she’s here.” Clarke puts on her doctor’s costume, acting like she isn’t just trying to do this as quick as possible so Anya will stop glaring a hole through her temple. She moves over to the examination table after spending an adequate amount of time washing her hands and putting her gloves on. “Okay, on a scale of one to ten how bad does your arm hurt right now?” Clarke gathers her clipboard and pretends that she gives a shit. 

 

“What do you think, doc? I fucking fell on my arm.” Anya knows Clarke is just putting on a show for Lexa and she’s going to try her hardest to embarrass the hell out of the young doctor. 

 

“I’m guessing it’s around a four to seven, then?” Clarke stays in character, smiling although her eyes are telling Anya to watch what she says. But who is Anya Woods, one of the most important partners at Trikru Legal, to back down from a fight? 

 

“It’s around a hurry up and get me to an x-ray or some shit so I can leave.” Anya sneers, completely ignoring the fact that she can feel Lexa’s glare burning the side of her face, both in embarrassment and loathing. 

 

“Alrighty, so I’ll just put down a solid five. Now can you move it at all?” Clarke’s voice goes up in pitch, playing into the airhead blonde trope to further annoy Anya, considering she knows  _ exactly  _ what she’s doing. Anya attempts to move the limb like she’s asked, finding that she can with only minimal pain. “Fantastic, looks like it isn’t broken or anything like that.” Dr. Griffin silently asks for permission to touch Anya, which she begrudgingly gives. She pokes at her lightly, feeling for any internal bruising. “Looks like you’re all good, Anya. Might wanna ice it and take it easy for the next few days to a week or so, but you won’t be needing anything further from me unless you want a prescription for pain meds.” 

 

“Thanks, Clarke. I’ll take care of the rest.” Lexa quickly gathers her and Anya’s purses, practically throwing the suit jacket at her sister before yanking her out of the room, face fully red. 

 

*

 

A few weeks later, Clarke gets the same message: “One Ms. Anya Woods here to see you, Dr. Griffin.”

 

“You’ve gotta stop coming in here.”  _ And I’ve gotta stop wearing my favorite scrubs, ugh!  _ Dr. Griffin stomps into the patient’s room wearing her all pink scrubs only to find Anya, completely healed of her old injuries and with no visible new ones. “Why are you here? I don’t see anything wrong with you.” 

 

“Go on a date with me.” Anya asks, standing in front of Clarke. She knows she shouldn’t touch the shorter blonde, so she instead places her hands in the pockets of her shorts, her long tan legs slipped into black converse. She’s wearing another t-shirt, this one celebrating the time she “went to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria”. 

 

“Number one, I’m working. Two, there are real patients who need my help right now and you’re preventing me from getting to them. Goodbye, Ms. Woods.” Clarke dismisses her, showing her out of the patient’s room and in fact, out of the hospital. When Anya turns to question her on this, the doctor is quick to speak. “Technically now I’m not working, so yes I’ll go on a date with you. Now leave, I wasn’t lying about the second part.” Clarke shoos her, smirking as she does so. Anya gives her a rare smile and walks off with all the same pride as before, but just a little more pep in her step. 

 

*

 

“O, where’s my lipstick?!” Clarke speedwalks around the apartment, throwing all of their belongings left and right in her haste to find her favorite cherry red lipstick before Anya comes to pick her up. “O!” 

 

“Dude, is it in your pocket?” Octavia mutters from the couch, pausing  _ That 70’s Show. _ “I saw you put it there when you came out of the bathroom after you fixed your hair.” Sure enough, Clarke feels the tell tale shape of a lipstick tube in her jeans at that moment. 

 

“You’re a lifesaver, O.” She sighs, taking it out and circling back to the bathroom to apply it. There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later at 5 o’clock sharp. “Of course she’s right on time, she probably got her five minutes early and has just been waiting at the door.” Clarke mutters, pulling the backs of her white vans over her feet. “Just a minute!” She calls, hoping to all hell that Octavia hasn’t decided to open the door in what she knows are her pajamas. 

 

“Anya, what a surprise!” It seems she’ll have no such luck. Octavia gushes over how beautiful Anya looks in her ‘shirt and pants’ as Clarke comes out of her bedroom, fixing the hairs standing up on her head before turning the corner of the hall to face her date who is definitely stunning. She has on a light blue three quarter sleeved button up and tight dark blue jeans with her black converse again.

 

“You look amazing, Anya.” Clarke comes up to the other blonde, placing a hand on her shoulder in greeting. 

 

“And you look gorgeous, Clarke.” Anya says quietly, marvelling at the younger blonde’s curves under her loose flower patterned tan blouse and form fitting bleached jeans. “Shall we get going?” She references the open apartment door behind her, placing a hand on the small of Clarke’s back. 

 

“Of course, wouldn’t want to be late now would we?” Clarke smiles, exiting her shared apartment as Octavia simply says to Anya ‘you know the rules’. And Anya does, she’s the utmost gentlewoman, letting Clarke get into the elevator first and holding the car door out for her. After Anya climbs into the Prius, she lets Clarke change the radio station as she pleases, not mentioning the fact that she’s told the blonde multiple times not to do so. “Where are we going, Anya?” Clarke asks after they pass the city limit marker. 

 

“You’ll see.” Anya responds quietly, knowing that the doctor will love the surprise picnic she’s planned. They drive out to the edge of the county before Anya finally pulls into the Polis National Park, turning off the engine and swiftly getting out of the car. She’s on the passenger’s side before Clarke can think to open the door herself, flashlight and picnic basket in hand. “Wine and a picnic dinner at sunset for the lady.” Anya keeps the mirth from her lips but not from her eyes, gazing softly at the blonde who’s stolen her heart. 

 

“Wow Anya, this is beautiful.” Clarke comments, looking around in wonder at the wilderness around them.  _ I’m glad she told me to dress comfortably,  _ she thinks as they begin their hike up the hill to the perfect spot for watching the sunset, as Anya calls it. After traveling uphill for around five minutes, Anya finally motions for Clarke to move to her right, spotting a deer in the spot she was eyeing for their picnic.

 

“Don’t move, let’s just watch them for a bit.” Anya whispers in awe, seeing three babies behind the mother doe. Clarke tries, but ends up startling them by accidentally stepping on a twig. “Well then Ms. City, let’s hurry up to watch the sunset.” The older woman jokes, watching Clarke’s face turn pink in the glow of the barely setting sun and her own embarrassment. 

 

Anya spreads the checkered blue and white blanket out, gesturing for Clarke to sit down as she pulls the homemade sandwiches and chips along with wine out of the basket. “You didn't have to make sandwiches and everything, An.” Clarke says, even as she's eyeing the blt with swiss cheese.

 

“It’s not a problem, I wanted to.” She doesn’t comment on the nickname reserved only for incredibly close friends and family. Only once the blanket is fully set and Clarke is busy eating her sandwich does Anya sit down next to her, quietly unwrapping the turkey sandwich she’d made for herself. 

 

“How’d you finally get the nerve to ask me out?” Clarke chuckles, turning to Anya.

 

“Figured I could use the ‘I hurt my face falling for you line’ or something like ‘a fall a day gets a doctor to be your date’.” Anya rolls her eyes at the admittedly awfully cheesy lines, glad that Clarke seems to be amused by them as well. The two eat in mostly silence from then on, moving every so often because of a stray bug or sound in the woods. Anya opens up the bottle of red wine not too long after, pouring a glass for Clarke before topping off one for herself. “How was your sandwich?” Anya chuckles when Clarke looks disappointed on making to take another bite of the sandwich she’d just finished. 

 

“It was great, thanks. And thanks for the picnic.” Clarke smiles, uncharacteristically shy when she realizes that she sunset is shining in her date’s golden and brown hair, seeing the golden flecks in her eyes and striking pink cheekbones. “I’m glad you brought me here.” 

 

“Me too.” Anya brushes a blonde curl away from Clarke’s face, leaving her hand to cup Clarke’s cheek as she leans in to capture the woman’s lips with hers. Clarke leans in as well, taking the liberty of placing a gentle hand on Anya’s knee before their lips brush together, melding on top of the other. Clarke tastes like red wine and the sandwich, plus just the barest hint of the mint she’d had before leaving the apartment and smells like flowers after a rain. Anya’s lips are even more tinted with wine, and she smells a little like cinnamon, a scent all her own. Their lips are freed from each other’s when Anya pulls back, gauging the look in Clarke’s eyes. “Was that alright?” 

 

Clarke smiles, kissing Anya’s cheek before rubbing hers gently along the woman’s shoulder. “Why wouldn’t it be?” The sun falls below horizon as the two cuddle, the moon high in the sky as the two finally make it back to Clarke’s apartment. “I had a great time. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do this again sometime.” Clarke plays with the hem of her blouse, nervous although it’s clear that Anya has every intention of going steady with her. 

 

“I would, Clarke. And thanks for tonight.” Anya politely kisses Clarke on the cheek before making her way down the hall, she’s stopped by a hand on her arm. Readying to punch someone, she’s surprised when she comes face to face with Clarke once again. 

 

“I uh, just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss.” Clarke blushes before holding the woman’s jaw and leading Anya’s lips to hers. The kiss lasts longer than expected, their tongues sliding across each other, Anya leaning down to wrap her arms around Clarke’s waist as the other blonde brings her arms around her neck. Clarke pulls back, resting their foreheads together. “Maybe you could come inside instead.” 

  
“How could I say no to that offer?” Anya smirks as Clarke leads her by the hand back to the door. She presses a hand against the small of her back while the blonde gets out the keys to the apartment, unlocking the door and motioning for Anya to be quiet in case Octavia is still up and wants all the details. Thankfully the brunette is in bed, and talking to Raven by the sounds of it. “Wanna have some more fun?” Anya laughs as Clarke closes the door behind them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for my lack of medical knowledge(and affinity for a perfect number of words in a document). I had a lot of fun with this one, especially the humor so I hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
